


Liver and Funyuns

by Shearmouth



Series: Whumptober 2019 [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt Sam Winchester, Set in Season 1, let's beat up Dean and Sam, whumptober2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2019-10-12
Packaged: 2020-12-13 18:49:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21002468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shearmouth/pseuds/Shearmouth
Summary: Whumptober Day 6– Dragged AwayAfter everything, after all this shit, he was really going to die as liver paté for the Midwest’s discount Yeti.





	Liver and Funyuns

Sam was getting really sick of Bigfoot.

Well. Not that the cryptid they were hunting was actually the cartoonish bear-man who had made him laugh as a kid in “Harry and the Hendersons.” It much more closely resembled the rendering the main character’s father had tried to sell– big and toothy and out for a human snack. Four hikers had already disappeared this week since he and Dean arrived.

And now, his brother was gone too.

Sam shoved aside another branch and tried to swallow his fear. More than an hour had passed since they had been attacked. He’d read in the journal that the Ohio Grassman was more aggressive than most Bigfoot types. Apparently Dad had been right. He and Dean had received no warning besides the forest going suddenly silent. Then it was on them in a blur of orange eyes and stinking fur. It had thrown Sam against a tree, knocking him out. When he came to, his mouth tasting of copper, the Grassman and Dean were gone. A glance at his watch told him that he’d been out for close to twenty minutes. He’d been searching since then.

Sam knelt and checked the trail. A subtle but unmistakable skid mark ran through the leaf litter. The creature was big, but apparently not big enough to carry all six-foot two of Sam’s Funyuns- loving brother through the woods for very long. Dean was being dragged. Sam lifted his head and scanned the trees. The birds were singing. A squirrel scurried up a tree nearby. Nothing amiss. He kept going, swallowing another spike of dread.

The carnivorous thing was new. Dad had mentioned in the journal that Grassmen were known to eat deer liver, sometimes kill dogs. A far as Sam knew, this was the first time one had begun preying on humans. If the mutilated bodies of the five found hikers, all of whom had been recently removed of their livers, were anything to go by, the Grassman had expanded his palate in recent weeks.

The sun was slinking low in the sky. At best, he had an hour of daylight left. Once night fell, they were both screwed.

Sam’s nose twitched. His gut roiled as a foul smell suddenly reached him. Up ahead through the trees, he saw a shadow moving slowly, near silently. It was half-crouched, pulling a dim figure along on the ground.

Anger flashed through Sam’s blood. He checked the clip in his 45. That was the great thing about corporeal cryptids– a shot through the eyes usually did the trick.

Sam crept forward. In the fading light, he made out the Grassman. Nine feet of nasty, its dark hair was matted with filth, and its unnerving orange eyes pierced the woods before it with a malicious glint. In one clawed hand at the end an unnaturally long arm, it grasped a pair of familiar hiking boots.

Sam tracked down to find his brother, unconscious. The Grassman was dragging Dean behind him by the feet, Dean’s head and torso knocking painfully against the ruts and roots of the forest floor. Sam winced as he caught sight of the massive knot and deep cut bleeding sluggishly on Dean’s right temple.

Great. If they got out of this alive, they got to enjoy yet another concussion hangover together.

Sam took a deep breath. He sighted the base of the Grassman’s neck and steadied his hands.

Just as Sam squeezed off the round, Dean groaned and shifted, and the Grassman turned to look back at him. The shot went wide.

For a long second the burning gaze of the Grassman met Sam’s. And then the creature was charging.

Sam swore and sprang up. He took off through the trees. He knew he couldn’t outrun the thing, or outclimb it, but if he could get to higher ground he may be able to get another shot off. He leaped over a fallen tree and kept running vaguely uphill. He could hear the Grassman roaring and crashing through the trees, quickly gaining on him. Sam was smaller and nimbler, but this thing was built for the forest.

Sam put his back to a huge tree and turned, bringing his gun to bear.

Just in time to see a branch the size of a vacuum cleaner flying for his head.

With a gasp, Sam dodged, but not far enough. The branch caught him on the shoulder and sent him crashing onto the forest floor.

Pain burst up his neck and down his arm. He’d felt this before– impact dislocation. On his shooting arm.

_Awesome. _Sam crawled back and staggered upright, mind going soupy with agony. Then the Grassman was on him.

It grabbed him by the shoulders and pinned him up against the tree. Sam’s toes scraped the ground as he thrashed, snarling in pain. He kicked out at the Grassman’s chest. He may as well have been hitting it with a fly swatter. It pulled him back, then smashed his back against the tree. Sam’s vision whited out briefly from the pain and impact on the back of his head. He blinked, and saw the Grassman leaning in. It opened its mouth to reveal sharp, rotten teeth. Its foul breath made Sam’s eyes water. It started leaning down, mouth aiming for Sam’s abdomen. Sam thrashed and kicked with no effect. Fear shot through his blood, though he couldn’t help but find some gallows humor in the whole thing. After everything, after all this shit, he was really going to die as liver paté for the Midwest’s discount Yeti.

“Hey, ugly!”

There was a loud crack, and suddenly Sam was falling. He hit the ground hard, and managed to dodge before the thing fell on him. He rolled, pain roaring through his shoulder and chest, and came to a stop. He gingerly sat up, clutching his arm to his chest.

The Grassman lay in a heap at the foot of the tree. A neat bullet hole at the base of its skull oozed maroon blood. Dean stood ten feet away, his silver pistol clutched loosely in his fingers. He was swaying, the right side of his face covered in blood, but he cracked that shit-eating grin when he caught Sam’s gaze.

“Heya, Sammy,” Dean called. “Getting’ a bear hug, were you?”

Then his eyelids fluttered, and he collapsed.

Sam groaned and staggered to his feet. He stumbled over to Dean and rolled him over onto his back.

“Only you,” Sam muttered, pressing his sleeve to Dean’s head wound, “would quip on the edge of unconsciousness.”

Dean groaned, half-grinning, eyes still shut. “Gotta do it some time. I just saved your ass, I deserve a quip.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Sam replied, smirking despite himself. “You think you can stand? The sun’s almost down, and I am more than ready to get the hell out of Dodge.”

Dean groaned again. “Yeah, same. You okay?” Dean sat up slowly, Sam supporting him with his good arm.

“Dislocated shoulder, and he banged up my back a bit,” Sam admitted. “I’ll be fine. We better get some ice on that head, though. You feeling sick at all? Confused?”

“It’s not fractured, Sam. I just need some ice and a beer and like two days to sleep.” Dean staggered to his feet, swaying violently. Sam pushed his good arm across Dean’s shoulder blades and hooked his hand against his ribs. They started moving slowly through the woods, downhill, toward the road where they had parked the Impala.

“Sounds good to me,” Sam said. “I saw a nice-looking Chinese joint in town. We could get takeout.”

“I dunno,” Dean mused, “I was in a liver and onions kind of mood.”

Sam snorted. “Shut up.” Dean chuckled, and Sam started laughing too.

Their dad was missing. Their mom was dead. Their lives were a violent joke.

But his brother was here and whole and okay. And at his side, Sam found that he was too.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! This is set in season 1 because SPN just started its last season and I'm emotional and I miss my little baby monster hunters. If you have time please leave a comment telling me what you thought! Thanks for reading!


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